It Took Only One
by Gimme-Chan
Summary: A Story of Knock Out and Breakdown.  How they met, how they got it on, and how they eventually become partners.  Contains Mech on Mech
1. Chapter 1

It should be no secret that Knock Out and Breakdown are my favorite pairing right next to Prowl and Jazz. I simply eat it up when either of these two hot 'Cons are running around on the screen!

So this prompt was post over on LJ Kink Meme and I couldn't resist!

**Prompt:**  
>Everybody knows Knockout judges mechs by their appearance and thinks shiny and flawless means perfection, so it throws him for a loop when he 'faces with a mech he finds really unattractive and turns out to be the best frag he's ever had. Maybe Knockout had a series of disappointing frags with sexy mechs he thought would be good. Maybe he's stuck on patrol with the unattractive mech and too desperate to wait anymore. So he decides to have a quick frag, expecting it to be whatever, but it's awesome. Whatever scenario you can think of, doesn't have to be this. It doesn't have to be a mech readers find ugly, just someone whose not Knockout's type. Ex: plainboring/scratched whatever. The mech's personality could increase Knockout's misinterpretation of them too.

And of course, my mind goes straight to Knock Out/Breakdown and doing a kind of how they first met and how this duo started out. I wrote to fill the prompt and realized the bunnies weren't done and I've wanted to write a story on how these two came to be partners. So that's what I'm doing! :)

This is the "non sticky" version of this. I'll be posting the sticky version in my LJ, I know not everyone's a fan of sticky and I'm still too embarassed to actually post sticky here.

**Warnings: **Mech on Mech (you know the drill)

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><p>Regular talk<p>

::_Comm Link_::

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><p>Chapter One:<p>

When Knock Out met Breakdown

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><p>Knock Out reclined on the berth with a happy hum, shifting against the soft padded surface till he was comfortable. His optics were darkened, pleasured, smoldering red jewels that narrowed to slits as he looked down the length of his own beautiful body splayed on the berth. He wouldn't off line his optics, no, no, not yet. To do that would mean he'd miss the intoxicating sight of the gorgeously shiny yellow body above him. Miss watching that limber form with delicious glossy curves slowly touch, kiss, and lick up his own frame.<p>

Knock Out trailed fingers teasingly up the satiny smooth plating of one yellow armored arm as the other mech leaned into him, carefully pressing their frames flush together. One perfectly sculpted mouth seeking its equal. He leaned into the kiss, moaning softly as he hooked a leg around the other's thigh, pulling him closer.

The mech above him pulled away from the kiss slightly, just enough to gaze admiringly down. His lips quirking into a slight smile while his fingertips teased a seam along red hips, "Yes?"

Knock Out groaned, both arms falling back above his helm, as he squirmed playfully against yellow hips, "Yes." A smug grin played on the other mech's mouth as he explored. Fingers tracing seams then caressing over his glossy plating. His sensor net prickled, coming online, a wave of delicious warmth rippling through him.

Relaxing back, Knock Out sighed enjoyably as he watched the mech above him. Watched the dim light roll and glint off the high gloss and smooth curves of his frame with every movement. The way the others languid gaze roamed over him, hot and wanting. There was really nothing better than getting fragged by a mech who was as attractive as himself.

Knock Out shuttered his optics for a moment, this…this he enjoyed. Savoring the waves of pleasure as they started to build, rolling through him as sensations heightening, slowly edging him toward overload.

Then his comm link crackled to life. Both mechs stilling.

_::Knock Out, report to entrance 5B for patrol shift.::_

Optics snapped opened as Knock Out frowned, sitting up to lean on an elbow. What?

The yellow mech frowned as well, "You didn't tell me you had a...patrol shift."

"I don't." He didn't run patrol...ever. That was a chore for lesser mechs. Not him.

_::Sir, Knock Out here, I'm afraid I may have heard incorrectly. Did you just ask me to go on a patrol shift?::_

_::You did hear incorrectly, Knock Out. You aren't being asked to go on patrol shift, you're being ordered to go on patrol shift.::_

_::But - ::_

_::If you are not here in 5 breems I'll be directing security to your location and they will forcefully bring you here. Do I make myself clear?::_

_::Yes, Sir.::_

Knock Out snarled clicking the comm link off, slamming a fist fitfully against the berth as the other mech pushed away from him, already off the berth, turning toward the door.

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><p>Glowering, a seething anger swirling inside, Knock Out stormed down the hall toward the entrance he'd been directed to. His body still buzzed, sensors still pulsing and tingling from the interrupted interface.<p>

It was ridiculous asking him, _him_, to do a patrol. And, sure enough, when he rounded the corner the commanding officer, Stripnine, was waiting for him. His smile nasty.

"Knock Out. I do hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Knock Out smiled nastily back, "Nothing I can't start back up later." Or sooner if he could wiggle out of this. "I wasn't aware it was procedure now to have medics running patrols."

"It's not. I just like you."

Knock Out sneered at Stripnine's tone, "I have patents in the medical wing. I can't -"

"Are any of them in critical condition?"

"No, but -"

"Then no one requires your immediate attention, therefore, you will not be missed."

"And what if something were to happen while I'm out on patrol that requires my medical expertise?"

Stripnine leaned in toward Knock Out, speaking low, as through he were sharing secret information. "We have these wonderful inventions call "comm links". It's an amazing system. It allows us to contact anyone almost instantly despite distances. You might have heard of it? Furthermore, you're on the short patrol, so should anything happen and we need you, you won't be any great distance away."

Knock Out glared, drawing a breath, he wasn't giving up so easy. But Stripnine cut him off, "I realize, Knock Out, that you're…..shall we say, favored by some of the commanding officers. Even by Lord Megatron himself."

At that admission, Knock Out couldn't suppress the smug smirk that inched itself across his face. After all, Megatron didn't let just any medic work on him, only ones he trusted.

Stripnine smiled as well, leaning in again toward the medic, "However, I'm not Megatron. And he's not here." That…wiped the smirk right off Knock Out's face. "And I don't favor you."

Turning, Stripnine snatched up a rifle that was leaning against the wall and thrust the weapon into the smaller mech's chest plate, hands coming up automatically, gripping the gun. "You're on patrol. Now, do as you're told."

Swallowing a snarl, Knock Out turned and walked stiffly out of entrance 5B. Stripnine following behind him. Out in the now abandoned streets of Iacon, Stripnine stepped to the side, calling a mech over.

"Breakdown. Here. Your partner for this patrol has arrived."

Knock Out watched the other mech approach. Large bulky frame, a warrior model. Built for power, strength, with little else in mind. And it showed. Warrior frames were boring. No sweeping plating, no graceful curves, just mostly hard angles and flat blocky surfaces. On top of that, warriors were generally careless about their appearances and general maintenance.

This one was no exception.

Dust and grit clinging to the mech's plating. He could see scuffs, scrapes, and scratches in at least a dozen places. Patchy paint job. Disgusting. How could any self respecting mech walk around like that?

Either ignoring or ignorant of Knock Out's scrutiny, the warrior, Breakdown, came to stand by him and the medic had to fight the urge to pull out his polishing cloth and start polishing himself right then and there. As though just by standing this close, his own appearance might be affected by the larger mech, some how soiled by his proximity.

"My apologizes, Breakdown." Stripnine addressed his fellow warrior as he nodded toward Knock Out, "We're short able bodies so you're stuck with the trinket."

Breakdown make no comment, remaining silent, though Knock Out bristled at the insult. Trinket. As though he were useless outside the medical wing or couldn't handle himself in the field._ Preferring_ not to be in the field didn't make him_ incapable_ of being in the field. There was a difference.

"Knock Out, follow Breakdown. He's run this patrol before."

Biting back all retorts, they wouldn't change the situation now, Knock Out turned and followed Breakdown down a street.

Abandoned buildings loomed over them. They walked, almost silently, in between crumbling structures, down side streets, cutting across a few back alleyways. Knock Out turned inward, content for now to silently follow Breakdown's lead.

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><p>Authors Notes<p>

Ok, I've based Breakdown off of his Bio on Wikiapediawhatever. Which states he's extermely young. So, so far, Breakdown is still just an average soldier, he hasn't even started to climb the ranks yet. Knock Out will eventually speed that up. But right now, he pretty much obeys just about anyone who gives him an order because at this point he's out ranked by...just about everyone.  
>Reading and reviewing is always loved and appreciated! :)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Mech on Mech (the usual drill)

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Where Knock Out ends up really enjoying himself

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><p>Still revved up from the interrupted interface, just the thought of interfacing, of a good overload, continued to flit around Knock Out's mind. Refusing to leave him. With nothing better to do than stare at Breakdown's back, he dug into his memory files, replaying the delicious moments before he'd been interrupted.<p>

Smooth plating moving enticingly in the dim light. Recalled how that glossy shine had beckoned to him, made him want to lick along the smooth surface. He knew all too well how the light lingering taste of expensive polish mingling with the heady scent of heated oils from a passion warmed body acted like an aphrodisiac. Just thinking about it sent a thrill over his sensor net.

Wrapped up as he was in his own little world, Knock Out nearly collided with Breakdown's back when he suddenly stopped. He could hear the warrior speaking but the words were fuzzy and distant. Taking a step back, Knock Out shook his head slightly, clearing it. "Huh?"

Breakdown turned around, yellow optics catching his, "I said, let's break for a few breems. Refuel."

He gave an aloof shrug, "Sure."

A single nod then Breakdown moved toward one of the abandoned buildings, forced the door open, and stepped inside. Knock Out remained still, staring after him. "What're you doing?"

Breakdown looked back at him from inside the building. "Going inside." At Knock Out's blank stare, he explained, "Cover."

"Cover from what?"

"Autobot snipers? There've been some spotted in the area in the last few cycles." When Knock Out didn't move Breakdown simply turned and made his way further inside the building. "Refuel outside if you want."

Knock Out looked around him. Refuel outside? In the open? Shiny red target amongst grey deteriorating buildings? With his attention span and focus right now?

No.

He quickly followed Breakdown. Picking his way, as carefully as he could, to avoid getting coated in the dust and fine grit that seemed to hang in the very air. It was a useless effort. By the time he'd tripped his way to the back room with Breakdown, he was covered in a fine film of dirt, dulling the sheen on his armor. His lip curled in disgust at his own appearance. "Guh! How do you deal with this! How do you tolerate it!"

Breakdown had settled himself down by a window, looking out, "What?"

"This!"

Looking up, Breakdown watched as Knock Out slicked a hand over his arm armor, leaving a trail of dust and grime.

The large mech simply returned to gazing out the window, "There are worse things."

"Matter of opinion."

Knock Out fussed over himself for a moment longer before admitting defeat. He wasn't going to be properly clean again till he got back to base and in the wash racks...well, _his_ wash rack. At least no one was here to see him in such a state. His optics flicked over to Breakdown. Well, no one who mattered anyway. He could never let any of his lovers see him like this. They'd be disgusted.

Following Breakdown's lead once more, Knock Out retrieved a ration of energon from his subspace. He hadn't realized they'd been on patrol for so long, wrapped up in his thoughts, replaying images over and over.

He thought of sitting down but the idea was quickly dismissed. The floor was beyond what he could take. Instead he leaned against the wall. He may have some filth on him already but that didn't mean he needed to wallow in it.

Sipping at his energon in silence, his mind once again returned to the subject of…interfacing. And his body once again reminded him of just how unsatisfied he was. Excess energy still buzzing inside him, begging for release. Primus help him, he needed an interfacing just to get this out of his systems, out of his head. Problem was it wasn't likely to happen any time soon.

After he got back from this it would a trip straight to the wash racks. It was going to take him an orn to get clean and decent again. Then he'd need to polish and wax. By the time that task would be done he'd need recharge. After that, he had to report to his med bay for a good shift and a half of work.

Great. This was just great. He was practically squirming and no one around to help him out.

A flash of movement suddenly reminded him he wasn't alone. He looked over at Breakdown, watched him as he drank his ration, an idea forming. They were alone, they had plenty of time, he was...needy.

Needy…slag, he was desperate!

Maybe just desperate enough to...

Eyeing the larger mech over again, Knock Out knew this...wasn't his type. But beggars can't be choosers, now can they? And he did have to take into consideration Breakdown had those rare yellow optics that were, in their own way, kind of pretty. They went well with the rest of him. Gave him an overall unique look. And Knock Out could see where if Breakdown actually cleaned himself up...a lot, maybe a repaint, some buffing, and some serious polish and waxing, he might actually look...ok.

At the very least, Breakdown would do...for now...this one time...this one time only.

Setting the wheels of his plan into motion, Knock Out gave a soft sigh, leaning his back against the wall, "I'm bored. Aren't you."

Breakdown gave a noncommittal noise and a slight shrug.

He inched closer to his target, voice dropping in pitch, growing warm and rich, "Know what I like to do when I'm bored?"

At that, Breakdown looked up from the window to Knock Out, who smiled, letting a hand run suggestively down his chest plate, fingers trailing down his abdominal plating. That should get the warrior's engine going.

Breakdown looked shocked then...unsure.

"Maybe we should...start moving again."

Knock Out frowned. What? Did Breakdown just say…..no? To him? That's…that's impossible! No one says no to Knock Out! Look at him! He was perfect! And offering! You don't say no to offered perfection!

He fixed a coy, suggestive smile on his face and walked toward the large warrior. "Relax, Breakdown, we have plenty of time." But Breakdown climbed to his feet, optics avoiding the medic as he drew closer.

"Should go -"

Knock Out stepped in front of him, hand splaying against Breakdown's chest armor, stopping the larger mech from moving away. Clearly a more direct, hands on approach was going to be needed. "Breakdown, relax." Knock Out repeated, voice rumbling pleasantly in this throat as he skimmed fingers down the broad chest plate, purring at the contact. "We have planty of time."

Breakdown squirmed back against the wall, clearly uncomfortable, "I don't think...this is a good idea."

Seriously? Knock Out could've groaned in frustration. He couldn't believe he was actually having to work THIS hard for what would doubtlessly be a mediocre interface with a less than stellar overload.

"Really?" He purred leaning in, chest plates almost touching as he slid a hand down Breakdown's abdominal plating. "I do." His wandering hand smoothed along the warrior's hip plating, sharp fingertips tapped at the plating before dipping into a seam, teasing a wire.

Breakdown's optics flashed bright then darkened. Knock Out's grin turned genuine. Finally!

Fingers still teasing at the seam, Knock Out leaned in, raising up on his toe plates to brush a kiss against Breakdown's mouth. Softly, tentatively, he didn't want to misreading the warrior's body language and get punched for making advances that might truly be unwanted. He couldn't imagine his advances being unwanted but warriors weren't his usual partners and thus seemed a little...unpredictable.

No punches thrown, and not having been shoved away, Knock Out leaned in completely, mouth pressing firmly against Breakdown's. The large mech remained unresponsive, absolutely still, but only for a moment, then he slowly came back to life. Mouth softening, yielding as Knock Out pressed forward, glossa slipping between lips, dipping in to taste. And Breakdown...Breakdown tasted good. Real good.

He slid his hands up, palms pressed flat, fingers tracing along the seam. Feeling heat gathering behind the bulky plating, growing charge tingling against finger tips. The warrior let out a groan somewhere deep in his chest, the vibrations rippled through Knock Out. His sensor net flaring hotly to life as he shivered all over. Frag, that felt good!

Hands grew bolder as Knock Out mapped the larger frame, searching out sensitive nodes. He watched in fascination as Breakdown tensed, his jaw clenching, vents sucking in cool air with a sharp hiss, large hands pressed flat against the wall as his optics shuttered, flicking off, helm tilting down. He looked like he was desperately trying to search inside for some reservoir of self control.

This was a reaction he'd never provoked in previous lovers. Knock Out relished it, reveled in it like some new found power. A slim hand found it's way under the broad chest plate, fingers tweaked wires, stroked and teased. He grinned at the heat, at the way the warrior twitched, tensing and relaxing in turns at his ministrations. Watched as Breakdown fought some inner battle for control. It was fascinating.

An arm suddenly clamped around his shoulders, startling him as large fingers curled tightly around his shoulder armor. He'd been so intent on watching Breakdown's face he'd almost forgotten about the rest of him. The blue and dark silver helm tilted up, optics flaring on, no longer the bright shade of yellow they'd been before. They now glowed a deeper, almost golden color.

Then Breakdown moved. Spinning them, switching their positions. The action so fast Knock Out didn't even have a chance to make a sound before he found his back shoved up against the wall, almost exactly where Breakdown had been leaning not an astrosecond ago. Breakdown pressed against him, their frames flush, dark hips grinding into his.

A low growl emanated from the warrior, causing Knock Out to gasp, a shiver once again coursing through him. Looking up into Breakdown's optics, Knock Out's intakes stalled momentarily. He knew what it was like to be looked at with lust or hunger but this was all together different. That golden gaze was hot, molten, alight with something raw and feral.

Knock Out loved it.

Large hands were suddenly on him, moving, stroking down sleek polished plating. Blunt fingers catching on seams, teasing, tugging, drawing ragged breaths from him. Knock Out squirmed, pinned as he was, hands gripping at thick wrists. The thought of scuff marks actually entered his mind. But when Breakdown's hands smoothed down his torso to grip his hips, thumbs pressing into his hip and thigh joints, sweeping across unknown sensor nodes that sung at his touch, sending pulses of knee weakening pleasure outward. The thought of scuff marks was completely forgotten.

Thick fingers swept upward, hands Knock Out couldn't believe held such skill, caressed across his chest plate. Thumbs rubbing firmly over his lights, palms stroking hard up over the glossy curve of his shoulder plating. Knock Out squealed at the rough contact, arching against Breakdown, sharp fingers abandoning their grip to fling back, raking deep grooves into the wall behind him.

Breakdown moved his hands, never rushing. They searched, touching, pressing, tweaking every sensitive spot they could find. Slowly building the charge in the smaller, lithe body. Knock Out panted, trembled as waves of pleasure assaulted him, he couldn't think straight. All he knew is he wanted more. More.

"Please…."

He didn't so much as say it, as whimper it.

Pressing their bodies flush together again, Breakdown shifted, pressing the medic hard into the wall. Thick fingers dug into seams, hard. Knock Out cried out, helm flung back, the sound torn from his vocalizer, echoing in the room as pleasure with an edge of sharp pain seared through him, blurring his vision.

He clutched at broad shoulders blindly, that only stable things in his world at the moment, sharp fingers digging in. He knew he was leaving marks, which was...disrespectful, none of his other partners would have tolerated it. But he couldn't help it, Breakdown wasn't letting up, the sensations coursing through him were too intense for him to think clearly. However, given the purring moan, the rev of a powerful engine from behind the chest plate pressed against him, the warrior didn't seem to mind a few scratches. Still, he make a quick mental note to make it up to Breakdown later.

Knock Out quivered, breathless, lost, processor spinning, as his fingers clawed at Breakdown's back. "Don't stop...don't stop...uuuughhhhh...don't stop...ah!...more...harder...yes...ah!"

Breakdown did as he asked. He pressed harder, pinching wires, stroking nodes, as he pressed Knock Out into the wall so he couldn't move. Breakdown growled, letting the rumble of it travel into the smaller frame against his, his own body was heated, charge building to a panicle.

"YES!" Knock Out cried out, arching almost painfully off the wall as he clawed twin sets of marks down Breakdown's back as overload tore through him. He clung to the larger mech as Breakdown's own frame shuddered with overload against him.

Breakdown didn't move for several moments as he panted, letting the dizzying, heady sensations of overload dissipate before pulling himself back. Knock Out had his head resting back against the wall as he gasped for cool air, arms now limp at his sides, optics dim.

He glanced down at their bodies pressed together. They'd have to get cleaned up, touched up, if possible, before they reported in. To report back with each other's paint scrapped off all over one another would be beyond telling. And if their commanding officer found out about this….

He stepped back, intending to give Knock Out some room to move but the moment his body was no longer in contact, no longer holding him up, Knock Out slid limply to the ground. Gasping, Breakdown looked down at the medic sprawled on his back on the floor, optics dark.

Kneeling cautiously beside the prone form, Breakdown reached forward but hesitated to lay hands on the medic, fearing he may do some further unintended damage. He hadn't meant to cause damage in the first place. Frag, frag, frag.

After a quiet moment of indecision, Breakdown leaned close. "Knock Out?" He spoke softly, quietly, not wanting to jar or startle the medic should he suddenly come back online.

Knock Out inhaled softly, deeply, giving a low happy moan as he stretched out along the floor luxuriously. Turning his ornate helm slightly as his optics dimly flickered on. He looked up at Breakdown, dazed. The larger mech leaned over him, bracing a hand beside his helm. "Knock Out? Are you ok?"

A sultry smile curled the prone mech's lips, "Yes. Very."

Silver fingers crept up to curl into blue collar armor, gently tugging the larger mech down as Knock Out arched up, purring, systems already prickling with arousal at the larger mech's proximity. His lips nipping at Breakdown's mouth as he spoke, "Let's do that again."

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><p>Author's notes<p>

Man, these two are hot and fun! Knock Out likes Breakdown. He REALLY likes Breakdown. Breakdown, on the other hand, isn't 100% sure he knows what to think about Knock Out.  
>Reading and reviewing is always loved!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Big, BIG thanks again to everyone who's read, reviewed, or faved. I always greatly appreciate it all of it!

This chapter and I...struggled, and I mean full out, on the floor, no holds barred, struggling! I won though! I think…LOL XD

**Warnings:** Mech on mech

Cycle = generally day time, Recharge cycle = night time/sleep time, Orn = hour, breem = minute

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Where Knock Out is generous and Breakdown just moves on.

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><p>Stripnine frowned at the two sitting before him in his office.<p>

Knock Out sat comfortably, reclining in his chair, almost sprawling. His optics seemed to glow with some deep satisfaction and the smug grin he wore refused to budge, no matter how much Stripnine glared at him. The medic's frame, normally sickeningly pristine, was dirty, flaked with blue paint. Scuffs and smudges decorated his shoulders, arms, and chest plate. There were even a few of what looked like large finger sized dents on his hip and thigh plating.

Disgusted, Stipnine shifted his gaze to the other mech sitting in front of him.

Breakdown didn't look much better. His frame in much the same condition, only long scratches ran the length of his arms with some peeking out around his midsection. He sat rigid in his seat, back strut straight, shoulders squared, hands resting against the arm rests. His optics, however, were lowered to stare at the floor.

Stripnine raked his gaze over the young warrior once more before turning to frown at the irritatingly happy medic once again. At least Breakdown had the decency to look ashamed of himself. Knock Out, on other hand, was completely shameless.

Leaning forward with a hard sigh, Stripnine clasped his hands in front of him on the desk, "Well, then. Which of you would like to explain to me why the two of you were over two orns late reporting back from your patrol?"

Silence.

Breakdown shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "We -"

"We were combat training." Knock Out spoke up, cutting Breakdown off.

Stripnine raised an optic ridge, "Combat training?"

Knock Out smiled, "Yes." He waved a hand leisurely in Breakdown's direction, "Breakdown, here, was generous enough to teach me some of his favorite….hand to hand combat maneuvers."

"Hand to hand combat maneuvers?"

Knock Out nodded.

"And that's why you reported back two orns late? That's way came back looking like…this?"

"Yes, Sir." That smug grin seemed to grow just a little bit. "What else would we have been doing?"

Optics narrowed at the medic before Stripnine turned to address his warrior, "Breakdown?"

Breakdown nodded briskly, "Yes, Sir, we were….were combat training. Sir." Yellow optics flicked up to look at Stripnine, meeting his hard gaze briefly before quickly returning to the floor.

He stared at Breakdown a moment longer, his frown deepening, "Right." His gaze returned to the far too relaxed medic. "Right. Breakdown, your free to leave. Report back at the start of next shift for patrol detail."

Surprised, Breakdown looked up. "Yes, Sir." Stripnine nodded but the warrior hesitated, hands suddenly gripping the arm rests of his chair tightly. He moved to stand then hesitated again.

The officer frowned, "Is there something you wish to say, Breakdown?"

A quick shake of his head, "No…no, Sir."

"Then you are free to leave. Go."

Breakdown remained seated, hesitating, tensing again. His mouth pressed into a thin line of determination before he finally heaved himself to his feet, turned around, and walked quickly to the door.

Stripnine actually did a double take when he saw the twin claw marks running the length of Breakdown's back. He waited for the door to close before casting a rather dubious look at Knock Out. "I suppose your going to try and tell me those are from your little "combat training" session."

Chuckled quietly, the medic leaned his helm back against the chair, unconcerned , relaxed. "But, of course." Knock Out met Stripnine's glare, his optics gleaming. "It was very hands on."

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><p>Stripnine laid into him, throwing a nice little tantrum as he went on about rule breaking, fraternizing, how Knock Out "knew" better. And then on some more to something about how he tries to train his mechs right and something else about the war and Decepticon honor... Seriously? At that point Knock Out was completely convinced Stripnine had forgotten who he was talking to.<p>

He never had cared for those propaganda speeches. Decepticon honor and what not. Clearly Stripnine hadn't the honor of spending much time around Starscream. Knock Out wasn't a Decepticon because it provided him with a sense of honor. You want that? Go be an Autobot.

He wanted status. He liked having power, especially power over others, and the ability to do as he pleased with out much restriction. These were the perks of being a medic. A high ranking Decepticon medic. Megatron's trusted and favored medic. Stripnine could lecture all he wanted but he couldn't touch him, won't dare, and they both knew it.

Stripnine eventually wore down, no doubt finally seeing the frivolity in even having demanded he run a patrol. Once dismissed, Knock Out hurried away from the office, down the main corridor. Glancing quickly down halls as he pasted. No one in sight. This time his attentiveness to those around him had nothing to do with his concerns over his appearance. At the moment, that could wait...and even so, in this state he still looked better than half the mechs stationed here.

He came to stop, looking around.

Slag.

Where could Breakdown have gone to?

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><p>Standing under the warm spray of solvent, Breakdown took a moment to relax. He leaned, hands braced against the wash rack walls, into the stream of solvent as he shuttered his optics, letting his head drop forward. The warm welcoming mixture seeped under his plating, washing away some of the dirt and dust clinging to him, easing tense cables and stiff joints.<p>

Venting a tired sigh, he brought his optics back online. A little star of light glinting off his arm caught his attention. Standing up straight, he began to examine the scratches running the length of one arm. Blunt fingertips traced lightly over the grooves. These...weren't going away any time soon. Auto repair would help but only to a point. These would need to be sanded down, filled in, repainted, it would be time consuming.

Time he didn't have. He needed recharge, really needed it. And he had another patrol shift to run after that. Fewer able bodies meant running back to back patrol shifts. Great. He disliked unwanted attention as it was and these were bound to draw attention. Unwanted looks and glances, smirks, most likely a few stupid questions. He frowned, one finger following the lengthy path of one scratch as it stretched from his upper arm all the way down to his forearm. Oh yeah, next couple of cycles were going to be real fun.

"Breakdown."

Twisting around, he stared in shock at Knock Out, smiling at him from the doorway.

"Found you." The medic's smile was playful, boarding on teasing.

Breakdown blinked, staring back blankly. Found? He...hadn't been hiding.

The medic sauntered forward and Breakdown noticed he looked just like he had when they'd returned from patrol. Which was surprising. He thought for sure the medic would've retreated to his personal quarters and tended to his frame. It was no secret just how serious the medic took his appearance, even lowly patrol knew.

Knock Out reached past him and snapped the wash rack off. "Come with me."

Remaining unmoving, Breakdown followed Knock Out with his optics as he walked back toward the doorway. A slim hand came to rest on the entry way frame as the medic paused and looked back at him. "Come." The word was inviting but held an undertone of command. So, Breakdown followed, not exactly sure what the medic had in mind.

Knock Out lead him down a series of hallways to a lift. When they'd gone up several levels, Knock Out lead him down another hallway, arriving at a Med Bay. He watched Knock Out type in his code and enter. Breakdown slowed to a stop at the doors threshold. Wariness crept through him. This was Alpha level, none of his rank roamed these halls, let alone used this Med Bay. A facility reserved for Command, Superior Officers, high ranking staff. Technically, he shouldn't be here. He didn't have the rank nor the clearance. Why had Knock Out lead him here?

"Come in." The red mech walked further into his domain, slowing next to a berth before turning to look at him, still standing in the doorway, tense, wary. Their optics locked. Breakdown's suspicious gaze met Knock Out's and he could see the challenge there, almost hear Knock Out's smooth cultured voice issuing the words.

_Coming? Or are you afraid?_

Unspoken as it was, the warrior's hands still curled into fists. His jaw clenched, set, determined, as he took a step inside the room, letting the door snap shut and lock behind him. He held the medic's gaze as he took another step. He was no coward.

Knock Out's gaze dissolved from challenging to pleased. He gestured to the berth, hand skimming lightly over its surface as he walked casually toward a counter. "Sit."

After giving the berth a thorough scan for anything….unusual, he sat down. Looking around him. The Med Bay, it's contents, were so very different from what he was use to. Much larger, better maintained, better equipment. Clean.

He watched with guarded interest as the medic gathered various items, flitted about the room grabbing this and that, setting them down on the med berth behind the larger mech as he went. Twisting around, he tried to get a look at the items Knock Out had set down. He was no expert but it kind of looked like- Hands suddenly grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face forward again.

"There. Stay like that. Try not to move much."

Knock Out stood behind him, Breakdown listened tensely as the medic shuffled tools and picked up containers. He almost twitched, forcing himself still, when a sudden cool smear of something thick and gel like was placed on his back, spread down along the scratches. As sensation ebbed away, leaving the area numb, Breakdown realized what the medic was doing.

Fixing the scratches.

He sat very still. This was…unusually kind of the medic. Such quick attention for something so superficial on some one who tended to matter little to one of Knock Out's rank. Or...maybe it wasn't. This act of kindness could very well be motivated by something else.

Knock Out had a reputation. A reputation Breakdown was sure he didn't want...tarnished. Rolling around on a dirty, broken down buildings floor for a few orns with a gritty warrior model was probably something the medic didn't want floating around. The only evidence of their tryst were the scratches on him and his own word. Take away the scratches and Breakdown was left with just his word. And, really, who would believe him?

He hesitated, then looked over his shoulder toward Knock Out, not making optic contact since the medic was behind him but turning enough so Knock Out knew he was being addressed, "Not necessary. I wouldn't have told anyone." The medic's hands stilled against his back. "Even if...anyone had asked."

The hands remained still for a moment longer then resumed to their work. "Thank you, Breakdown." He could hear the smile in Knock Out's voice. "But I caused the damage. I'll fix it."

Breakdown gave a slight nod, remaining silent. It was best to let the medic do as he pleased. Though he was silently grateful the medic didn't seem angry with him. Time spent repairing him was time taken away from Knock Out working on his own frame. And he preferred the scratches to be patched up anyway, so if Knock Out really meant what he said or if he was simply covering up a dirty little secret, it didn't really matter. In the end they'd both get what they wanted.

Sensors numbed, he could feel only the lightest of touches flit over his back. It was surprising how pleasantly soothing it was. He found himself relaxing, joints easing as his stiff posture loosened. It'd been a long cycle. Back to back shifts, several rounds of interfacing, enjoyable, yes, but tiring. Warm, sure hands moved over his back. His helm tilted forward, optics dimming.

A sudden grading pain jerked him from recharge. Blinking, he took in his surroundings, remembering were he was.

"Didn't mean to wake you."

Wake? He hadn't realized he'd fallen into recharge.

Knock Out was still working on him. He had no idea how far along he was or how long he'd been in recharge, it took far too much energy to care. And with the quiet room, the soft feathery touches along his back, the warmth of Knock Out's systems radiating against his plating as the medic pressed close, it didn't take long for him to fall back into recharge.

He came online slowly. His mind fuzzy, a little groggy. His optics were slow to focus but when they did he found himself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. This wasn't his quarters ceiling, he knew that well enough. Nor was it the commons rooms, where he's spent many a recharge cycle when one of the other mechs he shared quarters with took another into their berth. He'd rather recharge in the commons room than deal with that noise all through his recharge cycle. Still, if he wasn't in his quarters or the commons room...then where?

Looking to his side he saw a med berth and then it all came flooding back. The patrol, the medic, the abandoned building, the fantastic interfacing, getting called into Stripnine's office, Knock Out bringing him here to fix the scratches. That's right, he'd fallen into recharge while Knock Out was working on him.

And, hopefully, with any luck, the scratches were all covered. Anything less noticeable was welcomed.

Sitting up to lean on an elbow, he brought his other arm around, holding it up. Surprised to not only find the scratches gone, not so much as a trace of them, the metal smooth and even, but also a fresh coat of paint. And not just on his arm plating but all over him. Even his leg armor. He looked clean and shiny. This was unexpected.

He had assumed the medic would simply touched up the spots he fixed, like the field medics did. It made for an uneven over all paint job, the patches of paint often not blending, the colors sometimes just close enough to somewhat match. But they saw no reason to put in for the time and expense of recoats for mechs who ran patrols. Just bound to get dirty or shot at and need a quick repair and touch up again anyway.

"You look surprised."

Jerking his head up and around, Breakdown saw Knock Out leaning against a counter, that lazy gaze resting on him. "I couldn't very well let you walk out of here looking the way you did. Half-aft welds, dull spots, scuff marks, blotchy paint job. I could tell who you've been handled by." The medic gave a sneer, "Field medics...next to useless."

Breakdown couldn't really agree or disagree. Up to this point he'd had no basis for comparison, he'd only known field medics and they'd kept him alive so far. But Knock Out was definitely better than any field medic he knew...in more ways than one.

He slid off the berth, standing as the medic approached him. "Thank you. For fixing the scratches...and..." The words caught in his throat as red optics flared, smoldering, aroused, as they took in his height, how the shine from the new paint bent the light around the curves of his frame, made him appear almost glossy. Knock Out grinned entreatingly, reaching out to run sharp tipped fingers down abdominal plating, lightly teasing seams, fingers brushing along his hips. The red mech leaned in close, engine turning over, purring, "Why don't we -"

The beep of Breakdown's comm line cut him off. His shift would start soon.

"I… Sorry, I…my shift is starting. I have to…"

"Hmmm. Yes…shame." Knock Out's engine abruptly cut off as he turned away with a disappointed sigh, walking back over to the counter.

Breakdown began backing toward the door. He needed to leave, now, if he was going to make patrol on time, "Uh, thank you…again…for…."

Knock Out turned slightly, waving off Breakdown's thanks, "Think nothing of it."

Nodding, he hesitated only a moment longer, drinking the sight of the medic in one last time, allowing himself that last small indulgence before turning to the door, palming it open.

"I'll be seeing you later, Breakdown."

Really?

He paused in the doorway, glancing back but the medic had already turned around, resuming the work at his counter, dismissing him.

Hurrying away from the Med Bay, Breakdown knew the task of leaving the upper levels would be far easier than entering them. Round the corner, find the lift, then he need only to get to his patrol station for assignment.

In his rush, he almost ran into a mech that came around the corner. A smaller bright yellow Decepticon, who looked him over openly, sneering his disapproval as he moved away, resuming his walk toward the Med Bay. Breakdown paused, turning slightly, watching him.

The slender, graceful frame immediately reminded him of Knock Out. Of the kind of mechs someone like the medic would usually associate with. Sleek, attractive frame, glossy curves, stylish, beautiful...like Knock Out himself. The yellow mech paused just outside the Med Bay doors, giving himself a quick inspection before activating the doors and stepping in. The faint beginning of a warm, familiar greeting reached his audios before being cut off as the doors closed.

He got the distinct feeling that mech wasn't going to see Knock Out for a check up. He didn't need a vivid imagination to know what kind of visit that would end up being.

Breakdown turned the corner, walking till he found one of the lifts, pressing the button for the lower levels, the more familiar patrol stations. Leaving Knock Out and his Med Bay behind him. He doubted their paths would cross again.

* * *

><p>Authors notes:<p>

Think these two are acting a little...sedate? They are. These two feed off each other to become the kickass duo in TFP, here though, they're not together yet. But they will be..soon!

More from Knock Out's POV next chapter.

**Also! -** Sticky version of this story is now posted on my LJ page (see profile page for link)

Quick note:  
>Stripnine outranks Knock Out, even though Knock Out is pretty much the chief medic. Stripnine only takes the roll of Commanding Officer when the Command Staff (Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, so on) are gone. Because Megatron favors Knock Out, it almost cancels out any issue of rank. Which is why Stripnine can't really do anything to Knock Out.<p>

Stripnine and Knock Out mix like oil and water, they hate each other. Stripnine thought he could push Knock Out around a little while Megatron was gone. Maybe make the arrogant medic a touch more humble by running a patrol shift. Of course, this blew up in his face. Stripnine didn't count on two things: One, that Knock Out would ever show interest in someone like Breakdown and two, that Breakdown would ever show interest in someone like Knock Out.

Reading and reviewing is always welcomed and loved :)


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